Oblivion
by Partyhard Drunkard XD
Summary: "When something is as alluring as my host, as stunningly beautiful...even the strongest of people can fold." The possessed form of the lost person he once knew chuckled seductively, "Every word I say, everything I ask of you...must be obeyed. Or I pull the plug. Do you understand, Doctor Lecter?" Even the Chesapeake Ripper can be brought to his knees. Hannibal/OC/Will
1. Paralyzed

Victoria Julian's eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. In fact, all of her limbs felt like they weighed that impossible amount. She felt like she could barely breath. She felt like her heart wasn't even beating. The poor seventeen year old brunette was paralyzed.

How it had happened, or better yet, why it had happened, was a complete mystery to her. She had blacked out in the middle of reading a book, it had felt like a bomb had gone off inside her brain, and now she was in her current predicament.

Victoria wanted to open her eyes, to scream for help, to do something to confirm to herself that she was still among the living, but all of her attempts were thwarted by whatever plagued her.

She couldn't hear a thing except this echoey quality in her ears. Great...was she deaf too? Is this what it felt like to be Helen Keller? She couldn't feel anything. She wasn't numb, per say, but the air seemed to have no temperature. She could tell that she was nude, but there was obviously no one around to see it.

but then there was something different. Beyond her eyelids, there was a light. Flashing lights, actually. She could hear voices, feel the cool and humid air, like it had just rained, feel the wet pavement underneath her naked body. Had she been found? The young woman wanted to move her arms, curl her legs up to cover herself since she could tell that she was splayed out for the whole world to see.

A voice penetrated through her eardrums, a man it sounded like. Probably a cop.

"Oh geez, this is not what I was expecting." He sounded torn between angry and disgusted. Victoria could tell that he had averted his eyes as he had said it.

She still felt floaty. Far away from herself. She still couldn't move. God, they thought she was dead!

Victoria started to panic, and with that panic came a vibrating, rushing sensation. It felt like she was moving at the speed of light. She lights and the voices and the sensations got louder and closer and much more real and then-

Victoria awoke with a jolt, gasping and coughing and retching, trying to take in her surroundings while doing so. She covered herself as best as she could while the people that were around her leaped and scuttled back in fear, shock, whatever.

Her wide brown eyes looked around and she quite resembled a sciddish feline, the way she was curled in on herself, backed up against a police car.

Everyone was staring at her and she was staring back. No one knew what to do. Jack Crawford, who had been the owner of the voice Victoria had heard, looked to the empath Will Graham, who had his eyes firmly fixated on the pavement near his shoes. At least he had the decency to avert his eyes from the seemingly mute and naked teen in front of them.

Hannibal Lecter, however, was behind the two just over Will's right shoulder, watching the girl with keen curiosity. She was mute and had just come back from the dead. The latter was the main source for the psychiatrist's cat-like curiosity.

Victoria's eyes were still darting around. Ninety-nine percent of the cops and medics looked positively horrified, like she was going to run at them and start gnawing on their flesh.

The other one percent was a middle-aged African American man, a pale man in his early thirties that had his eyes firmly fixated on the ground, and a middle-aged white man with cheekbones to die for that had brown eyes that she could've sworn were looking through her soul.

She looked down, curling up further as if trying to disappear into the car behind her. That was when Dr. Lecter realized how rude he was being by just staring at her and not offering her some coverage. How insensitive.

Victoria gave a look of confusion laced with fear as the Dark Man, which was what she was mentally calling Lecter, cautiously made his way toward her, like she was an abused Pitbull that could either run to him and start licking him or run at him and try to maul him to death.

He pulled off his very expensive looking jacket that was part of an equally expensive looking three-piece suit and wrapped it around Victoria's quivering form as she watched him cautiously out of the corner of her eye.

Her eyes flickered back to Crawford, who was now starting to ease himself forward as well, then to Graham as he was suddenly right beside Lecter. She hadn't even heard him coming.

"Can you walk or do you wish for me to carry you?" The Dark Man asked in a luxurious foreign accent that sounded Lithuanian. Victoria wasn't sureif she could walk or speak, so she decided to try. She unfurled her legs, which were rather long, and pushed her weight onto the balls of her feet. That wasn't too bad, so maybe she could stand.

Wrong. She ended up losing her balance and falling right into the black haired man that hadn't even bothered to look at her before a mere few seconds before. She felt his hands gripping her upper arms, keeping her up straight, and she held onto his shoulders in an attempt to stabilize herself.

"I, uhm, I think the latter would be best, Doctor Lecter." The man stammered before practically pushing Victoria toward the Dark Man that was now known as Doctor Lecter.

Victoria froze and her eyes became ever wider as the name sunk into her mind. Lecter. Doctor Lecter. Hannibal Lecter. She turned to look at the Dark Man behind her, now completely terrified if she hadn't been before.

But before she knew it, she was hoisted up Bridal Style. She kept Doctor Lecter's jacket front closed to provide some sort of modesty, but that really wasn't her problem.

Her problem was that she was far away from her home. She was far away from her dimension, even. And she was in the arms of a serial killer.


	2. No Record

It had been three days that Victoria had been in a coma. She had passed out the second that Lecter had laid her down in the ambulance.

Beverly Katz, Jack Crawford, and Will Graham had been gathered in a waiting room in the hospital where she was being cared for, discussing findings on Victoria's DNA tests, blood samples, and fingerprints.

"There's no findings. At all. She isn't in any systems, nothing. We even took a picture of her and put it through the facial recognition system and there's no match." Beverly whispered urgently before checking the time on her phone.

"Are you saying there's no record of her ever even existing?" Will snapped, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. He cocked his head to the side like a puppy and watched her face for a brief moment before looking down again.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Will."

Silence filled the room. To say that they were disturbed was an understatement.

"And...she had to have been dead for a long time. At least four hours." Beverly continued hesitantly.

"No, that isn't possible. Not with the way she just regained consciousness like that." Will argued with a shake of his head.

"I want to agree with you, Will. But did you hear her when she moved? She sounded like a jumbo box of Rice Crispies." Jack muttered, leaning his head toward Will slightly, watching him.

Will pursed his lips, rubbing his chin. He was at a loss for the first time during any case. He couldn't see anything, he had no design. That bothered him very much.

Will's reverie was broken when a nearly frantic Alana Bloom rushed into the room, panting from having run down the hallway.

"Guys? She's awake."

Sure enough, there she was. Looking around at the five people in her hospital room with wide, curious eyes.

"Hannibal and I were reading her a book and she just...woke up. It was like she had just woken up from taking a nap, not a coma." Alana explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

Victoria's eyes flickered to everyone, studying the faces with a light look on her face. Pure innocence, no fear, no confusion. Nothing like she had been before when they had found her.

"What's your name?" Jack immediately asked her in a hard tone, his face the picture of determination.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, obviously a little perturbed at the lack of politeness. With a dainty huff, she mimed writing something. Everyone looked at her like she had three heads for a moment until a lightbulb went off in Hannibal's head.

"She wants to write it down." He said in that luxurious voice of his and leaned down to reach into his leather bag that he carried around. He neatly tore a piece of paper out of a notebook and handed her a pen. Everyone was seeming to hold their breath for her to answer.

Victoria leaned over the paper and scribbled something down before turning it around and holding it up for everyone to see.

It read, "My name is Victoria Julian."

"It's so nice to know your name now, sweetheart. I'm Alana." Alana murmured in a nurturing way, sitting down next to Victoria's bedside again, Hannibal following suit, watching the girl with the same curiosity from days before.

Victoria leaned over the paper again, scribbling out something else.

This time, it read, "I know who all of you are."

Everyone froze, Will visibly paled.

Victoria wrote something else.

"Nice to meet you as well, Doctor Bloom, Miss Katz, Mister Crawford, Mister Graham, and...Doctor Lecter."

Aaaaand, that was enough for Will. He back pedaled and tore out of there like no one's business. Victoria didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed a tad bit amused. Her eyes slid over to Hannibal's, brown meeting brown. There was a knowing look in that glance and Hannibal gave her a very slight head tilt in return.

Their non-verbal exchange was so small that no one noticed it.

Victoria wrote something again and Alana and Beverly exchanged glances while Jack visibly tensed.

"May I have a moment with Doctor Lecter, please?"

"Oh, umm..." Alana looked to Hannibal and he nodded.

"It's quite fine." He assured her and she stood, walking out of the room hesitantly with the other two.

The second the door closed, Hannibal's whole demeanor changed, as did Victoria's. She seemed so much darker, it was like the light in the room dimmed.

They looked at each other expectantly, like they were waiting for the other to do or say something first. With a sigh, Victoria bent over the paper again, scribbling away.

"Is there a record of me existing?"

Hannibal quirked an eyebrow at this before looking to her, "I don't think so. I believe I heard Miss Katz discussing that matter."

Victoria nodded and smiled, in a smug way.

"Good."

The Lithuanian shifted his weight forward in his chair, leaning toward her and she looked at him curiously.

"How-"

"Of course there's no record of me." The young girl wrote down sloppily on the piece of paper the psychiatrist had given her.

A ghost of a smirk danced on her lips.

"But you know as well as I do that I am here and I am very much real." She wrote next to her previous statement before neatly setting the pen down on the bedside table, the paper next to it.

Brown eyes met brown eyes again and then there was a voice.

"But nobody will believe a word you say if you told them what's going on at this exact moment."

It was her, but...her lips hadn't moved one bit. There was the scratching sound of pen on paper, but she hadn't moved an inch.

Hannibal Lecter looked down and his eyes widened a minuscule amount at what he saw.

The word, "CANNIBAL" was written diagonally across the whole piece of paper. He slowly lifted his eyes to her again, but the bed she had been laying on seconds before was empty.

It was like she had never even been there.

But the question was...where in God's name did she go?


	3. Beast Within

**AN: I hope Lecter isn't too OOC, or OOC at all. If he is, I sincerely apologize.**

**This chapter is definitely the most suspenseful of the bunch (so far, that is). No juicy yummyness yet, but it had me on the edge of my seat while I was writing it.**

**Slight Hannibal/Abigail in this chapter. Will/Hannibal, if you squint really REALLY hard.**

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Hannibal Lecter usually doesn't feel scared or anything of the sort, but to say that he was disturbed was an understatement. He had to have fallen asleep in her room, it had to have been a dream. People don't just disappear like that.

Hannibal's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of her. He inhaled deeply, trying to find her scent. There was nothing. All of his hypersensitive senses were picking up nothing and that bothered him to a degree, but also soothed his mind. It lead him to believe wholeheartedly that he was merely dreaming and that he would wake up eventually.

His calm was shattered when there was a blood curdling scream from down the hallway. It chilled him to the bone. Even when he had murdered his victims, he had never heard a scream so...so...he couldn't even put his finger on it, but it was not right. Something was definitely not right, dream or not.

The Lithuanian stood slowly, gracefully, out of his chair and eased his way to the doorway, peering out into the hallway. The lights were dim, flickering as if something oddly supernatural was powering them. It was eerily quiet and still, it was almost as if everyone had just up and left.

And it was absolutely freezing.

Hannibal exhaled harshly and his suspicions were confirmed. He could see his breath. He slowly made his way out into the hallway, his senses even more on alert than they normally were. He resembled a tiger in the brush that had been stalking its prey, but found that it had been being stalked itself. Calm, quiet, on edge, and ready to strike at any moment. His brown gaze was cautious, yet dark, as it swept around the seemingly abandoned hallway.

The lights above him flickered and the scream echoed its way through the hospital again. At least he knew he was going in the right direction. A part of him wanted to ask if anyone was there, but the larger portion of him knew how that ended for the Ripper's victims and he had no plans of getting himself killed then or ever.

"Doctor Lecter?" The voice belonged to Will Graham and it was behind him, so, naturally, he turned around, but...the space behind him was empty, save for a wheelchair that had not been there seconds before. The psychiatrist felt his blood run cold. He suddenly knew that this wasn't a dream at all. That the voice he had heard had actually been young Mister Graham's, but...something was toying with him. And something very dark, at that.

And just like Victoria had known that he was a cannibal...she probably knew that he was toying with Will pretty much the same way she was toying with him at that moment. The thought alone made him livid. He clenched his jaw, balling his hands into fists at his sides as he leaned against the wall. He knew that life was continuing on around him like normal and he wanted to seem as normal as possible. Despite the fact that he was stuck in an illusion that was like purgatory.

Lecter cleared his face of all negative emotion, tried to look somewhat pleasant, but that was soon interrupted when the wheelchair a mere two feet beside him lurched forward a foot and toppled over. He felt his stomach jump slightly and he eyed the fallen wheelchair for a moment before trying to act normal once again.

"It will not work, Doctor Lecter..." Victoria's voice whispered in his head. Oh perfect, he was inside his head. Inside it, inside HIM. Hannibal felt his throat become dry and the color starting to slide from his face. Never before had someone done to him what he had done to others, especially in the literal sense.

"Get out of my head." He growled within his mind back at her. All she did was chuckle and then she was standing before him like she had been there the whole time. Hannibal seemed unfazed, for the sake of the people in the outside world, but on the inside he was quite shaken. Was this what Will felt like? It was quite an unsavory feeling, it was.

"In your head? Hannibal, what are you talking about?" Instead of Victoria being there, it was now Abigail Hobbs. Hannibal's steady gaze faltered just at the sight of her. So much like Mischa, she was. The big blue eyes, the constant look of innocence plastered on her face. He almost couldn't take it.

Abigail furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head to one side slightly. She looked worried, she seemed genuinely worried.

"Are you feeling okay?" She murmured, taking a hesitant step toward him. Hannibal was fighting a battle deep within himself. He wanted to think that this was actually sweet, darling Abigail Hobbs and not some otherworldly monster that seemed hellbent on driving him mad, but...he couldn't convince himself that it was really her. In fact, he knew deep down that it wasn't, but his heart kept wanting to tell his brain otherwise.

"Hannibal please answer me, tell me something, I'm scared. And I'm cold. It's so cold, where am I?" She had reached out to touch his arm and he jerked it back before she could get a hold of it. Abigail looked up at him with wide blue eyes that were now swimming with tears of hurt and confusion. God, it had to be her. It just had to be. But it wasn't.

"I'm so sorry, Abigail." Lecter murmured softly, so that only she would hear. She looked at him again, the confusion and tears very much still apparent. She shook her head, her lips beginning to form the word 'what', but she had no chance to speak before Lecter took her face in his hands and twisted her neck with a sickening crack.

Abigail's body fell to the floor with a thud, crumbling at the Lithuanian's feet. He felt sadness, yes. But no remorse. It wasn't Abigail whose neck he had just splintered in two. It was Victoria's. Or at least the beast within her. He leaned against the wall again, closing his eyes, waiting for the world to go back to the way it was supposed to be.

He waited a few moments, but when he opened his eyes again, everything was still the same. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, his gaze floating down to where Abigail's body should lay. It wasn't there.

Ha! He knew it! He felt a surge of confidence in his system, but that was soon replaced when he registered there was no body there at all. He growled out a string of Lithuanian swear words, in his mind of course, and pushed himself off the wall, feeling on a mission. He would find this thing and dispatch it while he had the chance to, by God.

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**AN: DUN DUN DUNNNNN. Cliff hanger!**

**Let me know what you think!**


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